


Arachnophobia

by Squeevening



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arachnophobia, Bottom Castiel, Canon verse, M/M, Seriously - mind the baby spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeevening/pseuds/Squeevening
Summary: Dean and Castiel take on an unexpected enemy during a hunt, Dean *insists* they both shower, and one thing leads to another. :-D
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 101





	Arachnophobia

Dean surveyed the yawning mouth of the cave through the scrub brush with more trepidation than he was letting on, gripping his machete just a little tighter for comfort.

Castiel leaned in behind him, so close Dean could feel his breath on the back of his neck, raising the hairs there just a little further.

“Why couldn’t Sam do this hunt with you again?”

Castiel’s whisper was barely audible, the sibilant hiss on Sam’s name the only part that really carried, but he’d already grumped in the car and Dean had already extemporized a couple excuses Cas hadn’t bought and Dean turned his head just enough to speak. Castiel’s breath was on his ear now, which he wasn’t sure had ever happened before, but it was distracting, and sent an unexpected ripple of chills along his spine. 

“He made a stink about not wanting to deal with bats, and I called him the giant pussy that he is, and he told me to go fuck myself, and then neither of us felt like hunting together this weekend. I lost the rocks-paper-scissors, so here we are. Thanks for coming out to meet us and thanks for letting Sam take your car back -”

“We’re here _because you lost at rocks-paper-scissors_ ? Why do you _always_ lose at -”

“ _I’m_ here because I lost. _You_ were getting the call either way.”

Dean could practically hear Castiel’s exasperated eyeroll, and he snickered as quietly as humanly possible, still watching the mouth of the cave, which looked extra dark and foreboding what with the late afternoon sun just dipping behind a bank of clouds.

“ _Anyways,_ we are so sick of each other you can’t even imagine. The motel we’ve been holed up in the last week on that ghoul thing - _wiley fuckers,_ but we nailed them - had a fucking busted pocket door on the bathroom and - “ Dean trailed off, whispering lamely, “no privacy.”

“I’m sure you managed.”

Castiel’s whisper sounded unsympathetic, and Dean shrugged without answering.

_Managed to shit, anyway, yeah. Other, perfectly normal and very necessary things, not so much._

There was still nothing at the mouth of the cave, and Dean let out a - very quiet - heavy sigh.

“Shall we clean out this nest? I just want to get fake Bobby off my back and… grab a beer, maybe.”

_Make a new friend, maybe._

“That sounds nice,” Castiel nodded, his breath whispering over Dean’s ear again. “We haven’t had a social moment with just the two of us in quite some time.”

_Oh - fuck._

“Yeah, okay,” Dean whispered over his shoulder, raising his machete theatrically towards the sky, “Let’s do this.”

  
  


***

  
  


The nest was empty. Or, more accurately, the nest was abandoned and there were no vampires in it, but there were lots and lots and lots of cobwebs and quite a lot of bats sleeping on the ceiling, hanging in orderly rows.

Dean kicked at pile of dried up bat guano dejectedly, grimacing to discover that it wasn’t that dried up. 

“Where’d you figure they went?” Dean grumped, attempting to wipe his boot on a stalagmite.

“I couldn’t say where,” Castiel answered dryly, but I think I could hazard a guess as to _why._ Come look at this.”

Dean threaded his way over to join Castiel, avoiding the piles of guano very carefully now.

Castiel was looking at the wall of the cave, invisible in the dark, and he snorted at Dean’s frustrated harrumph.

“Right! Sorry, Dean.” 

Castiel held up a hand, a glowing white light lighting up the dark, and Dean blinked as his eyes adjusted, the wall of the cave black and kind of pulsing. Dean blinked again, but it was still doing it, and he leaned forward to look closer -

“ _What are those???_ ”

“Baby spiders,” Castiel answered calmly, lifting his palm upwards towards the roof of the cavern, lighting up what looked like hundreds of dust motes floating in the air. “There must be thousands of them. They’re in the air, too, floating on little silk balloons, aren’t they fascinating?”

Dean suddenly couldn’t breathe, his pulse pounding in his throat and Castiel’s voice kind of a Charlie brown “Wah wah wah” through the roaring in his ears as he fought the rising terror, his eyes too white, Castiel’s hand on his arm catching him as his knees gave out, Castiel’s other arm wrapping around his waist and lifting him like he was stuffed with dandelion fluff instead of flesh and bone, calmly walking him out into the setting sun, and depositing him gently on the grass.

The sun on his face pulled Dean back from wherever he was hovering in his head, his eyes focusing on Castiel’s face, furrowed with concern, staring down at him, before he scrambled to his feet, shaking his hands through his hair and ripping off layers as fast as he could move, jacket and shirt and tee shirt and boots and jeans - he paused when he hit boxers, electing to keep those on, gulping ragged breaths as he fished his keys and wallet out of his jeans.

“Dean, are you alright?”

“ _Are there any on me???_ ”

“No, there aren’t any on either of us, Dean, I left them all in their natural habitat -”

“Are you _sure?_ Can you _check?_ ”

Castiel nodded solemnly, shut his eyes for a millisecond, opened them to nod again.

“None. Your clothes are fine as well, I made sure.“

Dean‘s hands were shaking as he unlocked Baby’s trunk, pulled out gasoline and a lighter, and doused his clothes and boots before setting them on fire.

“ _Dean._ ”

Dean waved a hand at the fire, eyes wide and his voice a little shaky.

“Can you speed this up? I need to shower. Like, _now._ ”

“I had no idea you had arachnophobia -”

“I don’t. That was just _So. Many -”_

“Are you sure? Extreme or irrational fear or aversion -”

  
  
“ _I don’t want to talk about it._ Can you just, please?”

Dean waved at the fire again, and Castiel nodded, stepping forward to catalyze the fire with a whisper of grace, incinerating the pile to ash and putting it out in the same moment, before turning back to where Dean had just been standing.

“Shall we -” 

Dean was already in the car, and Castiel shook his head fondly as he followed.

  
  


***

  
  


Dean showered until his hands were prunes, shampooing his hair for twenty minutes solid, finally insisting that Castiel join him and wash his hair too, but more importantly, look him over microscopically for spiders.

Castiel suffered Dean with the patience of more than one Saint he had personally had the honor of meeting over the years, methodically disrobing, stepping into the one-person shower beside Dean to perfunctorily shampoo and rinse his hair, and making a show of examining Dean.

“You’re _fine,_ Dean, I told you.”

“Did I get all the _footprints?_ You _know_ those fuckers have EIGHT FEET EACH?”

“Dean, read my lips. You. Are. Fine.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath, his eyes refocusing on Castiel’s mouth now, even though the words were finished forming, his heart rate accidentally speeding up as he studied Castiel’s lips, and the swell of his tongue behind them, helpless to keep the full-body shudder from betraying him as he tore his eyes away from Castiel’s mouth and turned his body abruptly away from his friend.

“I thought you didn’t want to do that with me anymore until you got over your - what did you call it? Gay panic?”

Dean shrugged noncommittally, his lips a flat line as he turned off the spray and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel.

“That’s what _you_ called it, after reading half the internet. I called it ‘figuring out where my head’s at.’ You know I care about you, Cas, right, you _have_ to know that, more than I care about anyone else but Sam, but the physical stuff… I just need a hot minute to wrap my head around, uh, _that_.” 

_He made it sound so logical last time. How the hell do I get myself into these situations I am *definitely* an idiot._

Dean sighed heavily, running a hand through damp hair as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the motel room at large. 

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s just been a long week of, uh, no privacy to take care of business and I was going to go out tonight to find someone -”

Castiel stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in his own towel, to stare at Dean evenly, his hair somehow not damp at all.

“I’m someone. I’m right here, and you don’t have to lie to me to lie with me.”

_Oh, Jesus._

“I get that, Cas, and I appreciate the offer, but -”

“I know everything about you, Dean, you need no trickery or convincing to use me. You are welcome to this body, because I care about you, and I _like_ to make you feel good.”

_Fuck me -_

“You liked using my hand.”

It wasn’t a question, and Dean gulped, nodding.

“And you seemed to _very much_ like using my mouth.”

Castiel was in Dean’s space now, the heat of him radiating from the smooth planes of his chest, flat and hard but still _very_ appealing, the cut lines of his obliques dipping down behind his fuzzy towel drawing Dean’s glance as Dean tried desperately not to look at Castiel’s face and failed, his eyes tripping upwards over the divots in Castiel’s abs - _how does he have washboard abs when I can’t even see mine -_ lingering on the dip between Castiel’s pecs - _I have never *once* seen him do a pushup how is that fair -_ and landing, Dean’s mouth dry now, on Castiel’s lips, soft and pink, Dean could almost feel them whispering over his flesh again.

_His lips always looked so chapped, but they hadn’t felt chapped, and Dean could still feel the smooth slide of Castiel’s tongue and the heat of his mouth every time he closed his eyes in the shower -_

“I did,” Dean whispered, his voice a rasping croak. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Dean,” Castiel answered smoothly. “April showed me how, before she killed me of course.”

Dean remembered, his stomach twisting in remembered grief and agony, and something else. Jealousy, bitter and sour, and he fought it down, scowling. 

_What the fuck -_

“It’s alright,” Castiel soothed, mistaking Dean’s scowl for something else, “I’m fine now.”

Castiel lifted one hand to cradle Dean’s face in his palm, and Dean was too surprised to move, his flesh rippling with gooseflesh from the touch.

“She taught me something else, something I didn’t get to do with you - “

“Cas, I -” Dean was clearly uncomfortable now, his eyes finding nowhere safe to land. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a dick to keep bolting like that, it’s not fair to you at _all…”_

Dean could feel Castiel’s head tilting, and he dared to make eye contact again, guilty jade meeting puzzled topaz.

“What do you mean?”

“I - I owed you - I didn’t give you, uh, you didn’t get to -”

Dean couldn’t get the words out, and Castiel’s forehead crinkled up as he studied Dean’s face.

“The orgasm? A gift is not something you have to return in kind. _You_ taught me that, Dean.”

“But -”

“I didn’t mind, Dean. Giving you pleasure was _far_ more pleasurable than anything April -”

“ _Can we not talk about her?_ ” 

Dean’s voice came out sharper than he meant it to, and he instantly regretted snapping as Castiel’s hand left his face and he stepped back, a foot of cold air between them where there had been a wall of heat before.

“Of course, Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean couldn’t seem to bring the words “ _I’m sorry,"_ or worse, _"I’m jealous_ ” to his lips, so he gave up, the silence stretching out between them, his fingers idly picking at the fabric of the towel at his waist.

“So… if you didn’t mean, uh, not getting to come,” Dean finally managed, “What were you hoping to get to, uh, do with me?”

Castiel’s face was shy now, and he looked smaller somehow, his shoulders rounded, his arms limp at his sides.

Dean squared his shoulders and stepped across the distance between them, close enough that he could feel their towels touch, his body responding with a flush of embarrassing heat, as Castiel lifted his eyes to meet Dean’s

“To… lie down with you, interlocking our bodies and pushing them together until -”

Dean’s shocked little gasp interrupted the thought, and Castiel’s face fell at the look on Dean’s face.

“Cas, that’s not - I’ve never -”

“You’ve lain with _many_ people, Dean, how could you say you’ve never -”

“With a _guy_ , Cas. I’m not gonna - I’m not ready to let you do that to me, man, I’m sorry. I think I’ll just go ahead and have that gay panic right now.” 

Dean’s joke fell flat, Castiel’s disappointment palpable as he shrugged and turned away towards his waiting clothes, tossing his towel over a chair, heedless of his nudity.

“Alright. She seemed to like lying under me and I wanted to feel what it was like to lie under you, while we are both still - improbably, _impossibly_ \- alive, and these bodies are still firm and youthful - well, yours, I mean, _this_ one won’t age - but I understand this body is not your preference. Unless - wait, is it the body, or is it because it’s me inside it?“

Castiel turned back to Dean with black silk boxers in his hands, mournful now, his head tilting sideways again at the utter shock on Dean’s face.

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean tried speaking a couple times, finally managing to croak out, “You want to lie… under me?”

Castiel nodded dejectedly, looking down to lift one foot to slip it into the boxers, stepping through, repeating with the other leg, before meeting Dean’s eyes again as he efficiently slid soft silk boxers over the heavy cock Dean had been trying not to stare at.

“This body has a place to interlock with yours, and I neither eat nor drink so it requires no additional cleansing rituals like I read on the computer are needed for most humans to have intercourse there.”

Dean realized, suddenly, that Castiel had only showered to make him feel better.

“I have given it a great deal of thought, and while I am eager to try it, I have no wish to try it with anyone but you. I don’t want to lie to another human to convince them I am also human, or to try to entice them somehow to couple with me; I do not have your people skills. Nor do I want to have to explain my ongoing inexperience with how this body works in those respects.”

Castiel shrugged, turning away to retrieve black wool trousers that somehow never needed laundering. 

“I took an interest in the subject after the night you used my mouth,” Castiel admitted, buttoning and zipping the trousers, pushing the leather of his belt through the buckle, Dean helpless not to watch the silver prong of Castiel’s belt buckle slowly push through the hole. 

“I enjoyed that so much I thought of nothing else for weeks afterwards, Dean, and I researched what else our bodies might be able to do together, although I admit I did not think you would like much of what I found. But it seemed that in some cases only the man underneath would be called ‘gay,’ so I had hoped you might not mind lying with me that way.”

Castiel reached for his shirt, shrugged into it, the buttons incongruous over the naked flesh of his perfect stomach.

_Of course he doesn’t need an undershirt. He doesn’t sweat if he doesn’t want to._

Castiel reached the last button and sighed, lifting his eyes again to meet Dean’s. 

“Obviously, I was wrong. I apologize for making you uncomfortable. I won’t ask again.”

Dean fidgeted uncomfortably, his towel scratchy now, against the boner he _really_ didn’t want to admit to.

“What is it, Dean?”

“Cas - “ Dean’s voice was thick and husky, and Castiel’s fingers paused their work wrapping his tie around his neck as he studied Dean’s face carefully. 

“Cas, when you asked, I - I thought you meant the other way around. Y’know, me, under you. I mean, you’re right, we could die any minute, and if there’s really no one else you want, I don’t mind stepping up...“ 

Dean cleared his throat with difficulty, Castiel’s puzzled stare his only answer. 

“I would like to do… what you said. With you.”

“You _would?_ ” Castiel’s expression was incredulous now, glancing down at his body and then back at Dean to whine plaintively, “Then why did you let me put all these clothes back on?”

Castiel’s complaint pulled a bark of laughter to Dean’s lips, and he stepped forward into Castiel’s indignant space, his eyes softer than he meant them to be.

“I’ll take them back off, if you like.”

“Alright…”

Dean fought to keep his fingers from shaking as they closed over Castiel’s hands, taking over tying his tie in reverse slow motion, unlooping and tugging, Castiel’s face coming forward instead of the tie slipping free a surprise, their foreheads touching another surprise, Castiel’s eyes flaring and his breath hitching the best surprise of all.

_Can I turn on an angel? One with their grace powered up? Anna was human way back when. Cas was human with..._ _that horrible bitch. Was it even still really *him*, then?_

The question was suddenly very, very intriguing, and despite the guilt that had been gnawing him alive for taking Cas up on his offers to be a *really* great best friend lately in a pinch - or how had he put it, ‘ _Assist with your corporeal needs since we are the only two sentient creatures inhabiting flesh bodies here and you seem extra tense and irritable lately_ ’ - and his own subsequent bolting without returning any favors, Dean _had_ to know. 

_He *said* he enjoyed what we did, and I did absolutely nothing for him. I tucked tail and ran like a little bitch._

Dean let out a slow, shuddering breath, and he leaned in closer so his lips were almost touching Castiel’s, so he could taste Castiel’s breath when he inhaled, the taste of him heady and fresh, like ozone in the air after a summer rain, just when the fireflies were coming out.

Dean’s eyelashes fluttered in pleasure, and he tilted his face to brush his lips across Castiel’s mouth, nimble fingers unbuttoning and caressing, his finger and thumb closing around Castiel’s nipple just as his lips pressed to Castiel’s mouth, kissing Castiel’s slack lips as Castiel’s breath huffed out in surprise, licking into Cas’s mouth a little as Castiel arched into Dean’s fingers and let out a breathy little moan, his _surprise_ sending a thrill up Dean’s spine.

_She didn’t show you everything, then._

The thought gave Dean fierce pleasure he would never in a million years fess up to, a deep satisfaction curling in his chest as he leaned into the kiss for real, his hands sliding down the inside of Castiel’s shirt to untuck it, refusing to admit to himself how good the sharp planes of Castiel’s abdomen felt under his hands, wrapping them instead around behind Cas to grab his ass and pull their hips together, terry cloth rubbing against wool, the rock hard length of his erection shoving against Castiel’s groin as he pushed his tongue into Cas’s mouth, the taste of ozone in his mouth now, and something else; something new, something exotic and intoxicating.

Dean could feel it, Cas’s dick swelling against his in response to his kiss, and he broke the kiss to slide his hands over Castiel’s shoulders under his shirt, trailing soft lips over Castiel’s scratchy stubble to nibble an earlobe as he slipped the shirt from Castiel’s shoulders, his head dipping south to lap the flat of his tongue against Castiel’s rock hard little nipples, shrugging the shirt from Castiel’s body as Castiel mewled in surprise, pressing his chest so hard against Dean’s mouth he grazed teeth by accident, a fresh burst of that intoxicating flavor in Dean’s mouth as his saliva combined with the sheen of sweat suddenly coating Castiel’s chest, Castiel’s eyes wide with wonder when Dean stopped to look up and catch his eye.

“Dean, that feels _really good_ -”

“Lie down, Cas,” Dean growled, but it came out in a whisper, his hands already on the front of Cas’s belt buckle, his fingers reverse engineering the prong from the hole from the buckle, slipping the belt open and reaching for the button and zipper as Castiel gasped, his chest heaving as Dean’s fingers grazed the swell of his cock through soft silk, trousers hitting the floor with a thump that was mostly belt.

Castiel obeyed as soon as Dean released him, but Dean shook his head in horror and Castiel laughed and course corrected to the other bed that _wasn’t_ on Sam’s side, grinning at Dean’s sheepish smile, throwing the covers back and eagerly climbing onto the bed, rolling onto his back, slipping his boxers off while Dean rooted around in his duffel for something, Dean unable to conceal his surprise and discomfort at the size and extremely _male_ shape of Castiel’s cock when he turned around to find him naked on his back.

“Does this bother you? It’s okay, I watched the videos on the computer, I know how to get rid of this if you don’t like it -”

Castiel’s breathless little groan as he wrapped his hand around his cock both thrilled and upset Dean, a sharp pang of dismay in the pit of his stomach as he heard himself beg, “No! It’s okay, uh, please... leave it,” and Castiel nodded and moved his fingers to roll and pinch his nipple instead, where Dean had left it damp, Dean frozen as he watched. 

Castiel’s face fell as he tried the other nipple, and then desultorily dropped his hands to the bed, vaguely scowling.

“I don’t understand, I did the same thing you did. It doesn’t feel the same as when you do it.”

Dean’s paralysis abruptly came to an end and he surged onto the bed to close his teeth around Castiel’s nipple again, gently lapping at the nub trapped between his teeth, finally working up the balls to unwind the towel from around his waist and drop it, the searing heat of Castiel’s body drawing him inexorably closer until he was halfway wrapped around his friend, leaning on one elbow, increasingly bold fingers tracing the lines of Castiel’s chest and stomach, his cock pressing against Castiel’s hip, Castiel’s body arching against his mouth as he wrapped his lips around Cas’s nipple and just… suckled, sucking and licking and -

“ _Dean, please - “_

Dean lifted his head, his eyes glazed, that intoxicating flavor a perfume now, too, he was breathing it in from the air around him.

“Yes?”

Castiel practically looked panicked, his eyes huge, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“I don’t know what to ask for, but I need… more. Something else. This hurts.”

Castiel’s dick was purple, and he wrapped his hand around it again, squeezing and groaning. 

Dean nodded his understanding, swallowing nervously. 

“Okay, let’s, uh, do this.”

  
Dean rolled up on one hip, embarrassed, ripping at one of the foil packets he’d been clutching in his fist, while Castiel watched, fascinated.

“What do you need that for?”

“This one’s a condom.”

“I know what it is. Why do you need it?”

Dean paused, considering. 

“It’s for protection -”

“Against what?”

“Uh...” Dean struggled, suddenly, to put words to thoughts.

“You may do as you please, of course, Dean, but this body has no disease and cannot get pregnant and is entirely clean.”

Castiel’s smirk looked more like a dare than anything else, one eyebrow arched, and Dean dropped the condom and switched packets, the nerves fluttering in his stomach trying to deflate his boner no contest to the enticing heat rolling off Castiel’s body as he slid a lubed hand over his cock, the memory of that heat wrapped around his cock as lips insanely arousing despite the guilt, Castiel’s eyes fluttering shut as he knelt at Dean’s feet to ‘help him out’ an image he could not purge from his mind, yet somehow entirely forgotten now as he knelt between Castiel’s legs and lifted his calves over his shoulders, watching Castiel’s face intently as he positioned the head of his cock against Castiel’s hole.

Castiel hissed as Dean pressed forward, and Dean froze, his eyes wide in terror, his dick pulsing _just_ a little anyways, Castiel’s heat and pressure just as intoxicating as the fragrance rolling off him had been a minute ago.

“ _Am I hurting you?”_

Castiel nodded, his pupils huge, his lips parting slowly so his tongue could dart out to moisten them, Dean’s lips parting in an unconscious mirror of the man below him as Castiel found his words.

“ _Yes, but don’t stop._ I’ll heal anything that’s injured after we’re done.”

Dean shook his head in horror, eyes impossibly wide.

“It’s not supposed to _hurt_ , it’s supposed to feel _good_. Did I use enough lube?”

Castiel shrugged, laughing suddenly, his mirth pure and bright.

“How the hell should I know?” 

Dean smiled back, a wave of affection hitting him suddenly out of the blue, and he leaned down impulsively to catch Castiel’s smile in his mouth, bending Castiel practically in half but Cas didn’t seem to mind, pursing his lips to kiss back this time, unsure at first, and then enthusiastically, his ardor taking Dean by surprise.

Castiel’s kisses were innocently sloppy, his tongue questing, and Dean did his best, sucking the ozone from the tip of Castiel’s tongue and tasting it from his lips until Castiel’s enthusiasm seemed less academic and more genuine, his breath rapid and shallow and heavily perfumed again, Dean could taste summer and almost hear the hum of bees on the flowers he could smell as he tried pushing his hips forward again, his tongue in Castiel’s mouth, Castiel’s gasp unmistakably pleasure now, up close and personal, and Dean’s lips lifted in a snarl of success as he pulled back out slow, leaning up on one arm to break the kiss so he could watch Castiel’s face as he slowwwly thrust home again, landing with solid impact against Castiel’s ass, Castiel’s guttural groan sending a shockwave of pleasure through Dean’s body and knocking loose a surprised moan of his own.

“ _Please -”_

Castiel’s pupils were enormous, his lips bruised from Dean’s kisses, and Dean stared at him as he pulled out slowww, and _slammed_ home again, both of them grunting in surprise at how _good_ that felt.

“ _Please -_ ”

“What do you need, Cas?”

Dean’s forehead was beading sweat with the effort of giving Cas more than three seconds, and his voice wasn’t a whisper anymore, now it really was a growl, his pheromones rich and heady and completely undetectable to him, even as their effect on Castiel took hold and Castiel began to pant in earnest.

“ _Please_ \- your tongue - in my mouth - _Ah AH -“_

Dean was only too happy to oblige, leaning down to shove his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, the heat of Castiel’s body welcoming him fore and aft overwhelming, and his lubricated hand snaked between their bodies without his volition, wrapping around Castiel’s cock to slide back and forth in time with the rolling thrusts of his body, Castiel’s cries muffled behind Dean’s tongue as he shoved it as far into his mouth as he could, waiting until he felt Castiel _scream_ and his cock start twitching in his hand before he gave in and let the feeling take him, gasping and shuddering into Castiel’s mouth and spilling his pleasure into the scorching heat and exquisite, rhythmically spasming grip of Castiel’s body.

Dean didn’t feel like bolting this time, somehow. He slowly shuddered to a stop, reluctantly breaking the kiss to stare down at Castiel’s face. Castiel felt him, his eyes slowly fluttering open, wide with wonder, a slight blue glow still fading from his irises. His scent was just as intoxicating as before but now there was a hint of crisp fall leaves in it, and Dean tried really hard not to be obvious as he sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment, trying to memorize the way Cas looked right now.

_What is he, two thousand years old?_ _Look at him, he looks like he’s just discovered ice cream and apple pie and Christmas morning and then someone fucked him just right._

_“_ That was lovely, Dean, thank you.” 

Castiel struggled underneath him, and Dean reluctantly shifted his weight to release Cas from the cage of his arms, instead of giving in to the sudden urge to wrap his arms around him and kiss him again.

“You’re welcome. I mean, thank _you,_ I, uh, I had a nice time.”

The flush in his face felt hot, the moment awkward as hell, and Dean didn’t dare look up as Castiel lithely stepped out of bed to dress himself again, somehow fresh and sweatless and smelling of nothing at all, anymore.

Castiel had his trousers on and was reaching for his shirt by the time Dean worked up the courage to ask, his face still red and hot, wincing with embarrassment as he looked up to catch Castiel’s eye.

“That - Cas that was, uh, really nice.”

“Yes, it was,” Castiel agreed, his lips curving up gently as he paused to study Dean’s face. “Thank you for the experience, I will savor it as one of my favorite memories. I know you said you don’t want to talk about things like this afterwards, so I won’t, but this meant a great deal to me. Thank you again.”

Castiel turned away to pick up his shirt again, pausing as Dean cleared his throat nervously, obviously struggling to say more.

“I - uh, I don’t want us to talk about it with anyone _else,_ Cas -”

“Of course, Dean, you have my word I will use the utmost discretion. No one will know.”

“But, uh,” Dean broke the eye contact, his eyes falling helplessly to Castiel’s mouth, before hitting the floor. “Um, that doesn’t _have_ to be a, a one-time thing. If you want, I mean.”

Castiel didn’t say anything, and Dean finally lifted his eyes to look, his face tortured.

Castiel was smiling at him, his eyes soft and fond.

“Shall I stop getting dressed, then?”

“ _God, yes.”_

“Castiel will do just fine.”

“Shaaaaddup and get over here, asshat.”

“Of course, Dean.”

  
  


***  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
